Belief

I don't think I have ever believed. I can remember my CCD classes (what did that stand for? they never told me) and thinking that there were these ideas I was supposed to learn about, and you know how it goes, you have to go through all the motions that demonstrate you learned them, until you grow up and can drop the act. Well, I don't think I thought about it in quite those words, but that was the vague and muddy idea. It never felt real in a deep meaningful way, but only like another set of facts(?) to study up on like geometry or Greek myths. It was a compartmentalized discipline, sequestered to Sunday mornings in the Italian neighborhood but never reaching the Saturday afternoon rollerskating rink. It was not a part of daily life or family life. Never discussed. And I felt nothing lacking. I can remember the eleventh grade retreat, and old church ladies in a panic over me catching a ride there with some boys in my class - what if you're in an accident, what will people think? What should they think? I rejected confirmation, and the priest I discussed it with expressed appreciation for the fact that I was actually reflecting on my faith and not going forward unthinkingly. Later, in pursuit of a Catholic wedding I went searching again with more focus. I revisited the steps in earnest and tried to believe. I looked again to see if there was something that had been missing. What made a Catholic wedding meaningful? It was always only about the pageantry and ritual. Oh!  I see it was drama. Old theatre. Ritual and pageantry do have meaning, some universal some individual. The symbolic acts so familiar give us opportunity to pause, reflect on our guiding principles, on our needs, on our failings and successes. The pageantry helps evoke our imagination and inspiration. It need not all center on a magical myth. To have cultural meaning, I mean. But why do those who believe the strange tales think something is wrong with me? Why do they want to fix me? The illogic of many beliefs seems as clear to me as the tree outside my window. Clear. Real. Obvious to my open eyes. Yet, not uncomplicated. I do not disrespect the faiths of others, but I think they are illusions. I am still constantly moved by the art inspired by faith, and yet I l look elsewhere, to the world, for my inspiration. Who did I pray to when I was in the hospital in Colombia, I was asked. I didn't pray. I focused my determination on getting well and I worked hard towards it, actively. I take the same approach with my artistic work and my ethical living. My thanks are not offered to a god, but to the people to whom they are due.

Needless Stuff

When I was traveling in Ecuador, I spent a week in the small village of Quilotoa, high in the Andes.  It is an amazing thing to find yourself in such natural majesty as these breathtaking mountaintops.  What was troubling, though, was the trash.  Lush green slopes rise beside ravines littered with colorful wrappers and other debris.  As increasing varieties of processed and packaged consumer goods make their way into these villages, the trash piles up.  Such communities haven't yet developed a method for dealing with this trash.  It really made me think again about the waste we humans produce, and especially, we Americans.  Seeing the stark contrast between the natural beauty and the man-made junk was jarring.  I have made many small changes in my habits in an effort to reduce my own waste--cloth napkins, reusable food containers and shopping bags, fewer processed foods and trinkets, for example.  But as I sit here now in my home, I see how surrounded I am by packaging and products, rooms full of non-biodegradable things.  I feel a little sorrow in my heart, and while I enjoy my possessions, I know most of them are unnecessary.

Manic Success

Today I can do anything.  There is nothing I cannot accomplish.  Today is one of those days.  Arise early but not too early and cheer and smiles and everything is already ok, and even little one is up happy not crying.  Water soap lavender rinse, clip clean comb, come to my arms little dear.  And my dear.  No hot brewing slaving making, oh no, out and around the corner, serve me please piping hot.  Lists, errands, yellow pad and pencil, feels like places to save and people to rescue, over buildings, down alleys, aimed at the target.  Obstacles are not unheard unseen, but tripping, yelling, settling down hurdled over.  Somewhere in the middle is a peering out at all the other days on which I feel I can accomplish nothing, or won't get up off the couch, or look around in dismay at all of the work to be done and resign for that day.  But not today.  Scratch off one two three eight nine item ten.  And baby we aren't even at lunch.  Shoot straight through sweeping planting playing, no sandy troubles or worries, just fun.  Breathe.  Pause.  Sigh.  Hush.

Density

Everyone has their own ideas of what they find brilliant.  I am always impressed when people are able to collapse layers of meaning into a dense, but seemingly simple, creative work.  Poetry is a perfect example.  A succinct phrase of few words that says many things at once while evoking an emotion and also following a predetermined rhythmic form--that's smart.  Or really good song writing in which the ideas in the lyrics are supported (or perhaps contradicted) by the melodies, then enhanced by the instrument choices for the accompaniment, and further brought to brilliance by the musical and vocal performances--it moves me. 

Silly examples I've found--and it reflects how I've been biding my time lately--are often in children's books.  The Very Hungry Caterpillar teaches a life cycle, the days of the week, counting 1-5, an array of fruits and other foods, good eating habits, and metamorphosis, all in a colorfully collaged picture book--so clever.

If these things were an object they could be one of those collapsible tin cups people used to use while camping or at war.  Folded down into silver concentric circles, it becomes a perfect compact cylinder, layered from the outside in, flat enough to tuck into your pocket, maybe a meaningful emblem engraved into the lid, and when expanded out to it's fullest, able to hold water and prove life-saving.  Hmm, a nice symbol.

Save, Publish, Log Out

I often have mixed feelings about technology.  I am tremendously appreciative of the many ways I benefit from my gadgets.  I love being able to reach people quickly, by phone, by text, by email or Facebook.  Traveling is accessible and relatively convenient.  Research takes a fraction of the time it used to require.  Creative work is savable and sharable.  It is a balm to have instant entertainment in my bag at all times.  I am amazed to see how effective online political action can be (and fast! just look at the Susan G Komen/Planned Parenthood story).  

Moderation works for me, as well.  I get fatigued seeing 8 out of 10 people around me navigating a touch screen instead of looking at their surroundings or being present where I am and they are.  I feel anxiety when I know I have a backlog of messages to sift through and address.  I enjoy long stretches of time with people I love without any electronic interruptions.

At times, multimedia theatre projects thrill me.  For the right piece--for example, a show with a theme that is supported by the addition of technology--layered use of modern media can say something complex in a way that straightforward drama cannot.  Or it can say something very specific about the time we live in right now.  I find, however, that I'm not so interested in using technology for extras that really are just extras.  I don't care to follow a character on Twitter or watch back-story videos on YouTube or read actors' blogs through the process.  I know, I know, some creative show could really integrate such material in a meaningful way, of course.  But it still feels like marketing to me.  With or without the technology, I still want the event to be about what's happening in a room with the people who are there.

Why Are the Arts Important?

Because I am a person who takes the arts for granted, it can be difficult to articulate why I think art is so important.  I want to venture some thoughts on the subject.  This is an incomplete list in no particular order, but putting it into words helps me understand more deeply why I continue with my work. 

Art can be a tool for examining the events in our communities or the behavior of the people in them.  It can demonstrate what we have done well, or suggest better ways we could have handled situations.  It can remind us to still think about things past.  There may be events from history we would rather forget about, out of shame or regret.  Or perhaps it even bores us, sometimes, to talk about the past, but drama (or other forms) can make it interesting and re-engage us in the subject. 

Art can help us care about other people.  Empathy is perhaps a bit undervalued, but I think caring about the well-being of others can encourage us to seek solutions to a myriad of everyday problems.  When art can show the personal details of an individual's story, and charm us with their character, and provoke angst and excitement over their challenges, then we can almost imagine being that person, or being in that person's situation.  And then if we shift our focus to see how many others could be feeling the same way, then we might care about whether things are fair and good for them. 

Art can ask questions I never thought of asking myself.  Art can inspire me to question my habits, rethink my assumptions, reconsider my options, and demand the same of those in charge.  Art can teach me about something I never thought about learning.  Art can inspire me by the amazingly creative ways other people can think.  If someone could come up with that brilliant work, then I need to challenge myself harder to try to do as well.  If I can be inspired to want to work more creatively, others can also realize that there may be new ways to approach...anything! 

Art can show me how seemingly competing forces can help or depend upon one another.  Art can show me multiple points of view all at the same time.  Art can present ideas to me in ways that are simultaneously visual, aural, kinesthetic, and visceral. 

Art can help me improve my language skills.  Art can help me develop a better eye for noticing details in the world around me.  Art can manipulate me.  Art can point out to me how music and soundscapes can shape my perception at any moment.  Art can encourage me to feel something, rather than think about it.  Art can then try to make me just think about it intellectually without getting bogged down in my feelings.  Art can amuse me, cheer me up, or distract me from my worries.  It can make me sad and allow me to have some quiet contemplative moments.  It can make me laugh and help shake off some stress.  It can make me laugh together with a roomful of other laughing people and assure me that I'm not alone.

What so much of this comes down to is that art helps us learn and helps us enjoy learning.  We can then apply that skill and attitude to any other subject that concerns us.  Learning is good for us all.

Editorial thoughts...as this is still a tool for myself, primarily...I would like to come back to this list and streamline it while also fleshing it out with specific examples for each idea raised.

Dear Hollywood, It's 2012

I just read about how George Lucas couldn't get his film, Red Tails, supported or distributed by any major Hollywood companies because it has an all black cast and is therefore seen as both unmarketable and unprofitable. The movie, which Lucas has been trying to get made for 23 years and paid for the making of himself, is an action flick about the Tuskagee airmen who fought in WWII.  I'm more than dismayed to still see artists coming up against this type of inertia.  It's not just racism, but also an unwillingness to change how things are done.  There is this idea that a movie like this couldn't attract a mainstream (i.e. white) audience, and sadly, for the most part, they could be right.  When I read news stories that shake me up, I'm always looking for the lessons I can learn from them.  I'm reminded of how important it is to not only go to see theatre or films that immediately appeal to me, but to also look for work that isn't such an obvious choice for me.  There are tremendous things I can learn by seeing a movie made by people I've never heard of or about a subject I know nothing about.  It can be an eye opening experience to attend a play set within a culture unfamiliar to me.  Perhaps there is a show playing somewhere nearby that at first glance seems to be far outside my usual comfort zone.  How refreshing it would be to see more people making such choices.  We could show those who hold the purse strings that they underestimate their audiences.